


Bravissimo

by avantegarda



Series: It's the New World, Darling-A 19th-20th Century AU [5]
Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Adventures, Alternate Universe - Victorian, Gen, Humor, I apologize in advance, Kid Fic, Vienna, i got the urge to write something about cute children and 19th century vienna and here we are
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-13
Updated: 2019-04-13
Packaged: 2020-01-12 17:13:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,266
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18451013
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/avantegarda/pseuds/avantegarda
Summary: Fëanor is proud of all his children. But the twins have a tendency to test his patience.





	1. Expectations (Fëanor)

**Author's Note:**

> I said I was going to write some Victorian nonsense for all seven of these terrible children, and I finally had a flash of inspiration for the twins! 
> 
> This story is set very shortly after the events of my story "Gifted." 1882 was truly a banner year for this family.

_June, 1882_

_London_

 

It doesn’t do to give children too much praise, any parent worth their salt knows that. Tell them every day that they are brilliant and perfect and they become like my half-brother Finarfin’s children, useless and spoiled. I have high expectations for my sons, and will not tolerate any lack of effort on their part. But any man who tries to claim that I am not proud of each and every one of my boys will soon have his assumptions quite firmly corrected.

There was quite a lot to be proud of, in the summer of 1882. All the oldest boys were doing well; Maedhros was excelling at Oxford as always (and, I’d heard, earning quite a reputation among the local girls), while Celegorm and Caranthir were earning good marks at St. Francis and generally staying out of trouble. I suspected that being allowed to keep his dog on the school grounds was the primary factor in Celegorm’s recent good behavior, but who was I to question what worked? His commitment to academics was clearly improving as well, as he’d written that he was considering studying Natural Sciences at university once he finished at St. Francis.

Maglor, meanwhile, was in his last year of music school in Vienna, and by all accounts was a great success. My wife had been worried about sending our son abroad when he was only fourteen, but four years later the boy was top of his class, could play seven musical instruments, and was fluent in German and Italian. Precisely as I had predicted, of course. We were an accomplished family indeed.

The morning after the youngest boys’ primary school let out for the summer, I returned from fetching the post to find Nerdanel in the dining room pouring tea and dishing out porridge, her bright copper hair in fetching disarray. I paused for a moment in the doorway and admired my wife, in my opinion the most beautiful and talented woman in London. When we were first married, some called her plain, but I called those people blind, for how could they not see how remarkable she was?

She looked up at last, with a wide, brilliant smile. “What’s that in your hand, dearie?”

“A letter from Herr Meissner at the Royal Academy,” I said, kissing her on the cheek and handing over the heavy envelope. “He’s written to tell us that Maglor and some of his fellow students will be performing their final project on the 10th of the month, and asks if we will be able to attend.”

“How exciting!” Nerdanel exclaimed, inspecting the letter. “Do you remember how worried the poor lad was at Easter about finishing his operetta before graduation? Utterly silly of him, really.”

“So I presume you would not be adverse to heading to Vienna at the end of next week?”

“Of course, my love! It’s a shame Celegorm and Caranthir won’t be able to come, it’s before their term ends, but I’m sure Maedhros will be delighted to join us, you know how proud he is of his brother. Only…” She hesitated. “Are we going to take the wee ones? It’ll be a long trip, after all, and they do tend to get into trouble.”

I glanced down the table at my youngest three sons, the last ones not yet in boarding school. Eleven-year-old Curufin, the only one of the children to have inherited my passion for science and invention, was picking at his porridge with his nose buried in a book about steam locomotives; he would be all right on the trip to Vienna, I was certain. The twins, on the other hand, had decided that _eating_ breakfast was passé and were studiously using their porridge to paint designs on each other’s faces. One would think that at eight years old they would be past this kind of behavior, but one would be wrong.

“I would certainly prefer to bring them,” I said. “It would be an excellent opportunity for them to absorb some culture, and they really ought to be there to support their brother. All we need to do is explain the standard of behavior we expect from them. Boys?”

All three looked up at me expectantly, a blob of porridge dripping off Amras’ nose. I sighed, handing him a napkin. “All right, boys, did you overhear any part of what your mother and I were discussing?”

“I heard the word ‘Vienna’,” Curufin said. “So I assume Maglor is either graduating from that stupid school or he’s been expelled.”

“It’s the first one.”

“Bully for him,” replied Curufin curtly, before turning back to his book.

“Are you and Mum going to Vienna, Dad?” asked Amrod through a mouthful of food. “Can we come along?”

“ _May_ we come along, and do not speak with your mouth full. Yes, your mother and Maedhros and I are going to Vienna. And we would like very much to bring the three of you along, but traveling abroad is not to be taken lightly, and if you wish to come you will have to behave like young gentlemen.”

“But _we_ can’t be gentlemen, you know,” Amras pointed out. “We’re not grown up yet.”

“Nevertheless, you will _behave_ like gentlemen, or you will stay home. That means no running off, no rudeness to your elders, no hiding under dinner tables, and absolutely _no_ painting with porridge. Do you understand?”

The twins looked at each other intensely, as if conferring. I often wondered if my youngest sons were somehow able to communicate without speaking; perhaps it was a skill all twins developed before their birth. I made a mental note to try and conduct a study on the subject later.

“All right,” Amrod and Amras chorused at last. “We will be good.”

“I hope you’re not going to hold them to that, Father,” Curufin muttered. “They’re just babies, you know. They’ll fall off the boat halfway across the Channel.”

“We will _not!”_

Nerdanel winked at me. “Are you sure about this, Fëanor? We could always sneak off to Austria by ourselves and call it a second honeymoon.”

“The thought is very tempting, my love,” I said, putting an arm around her shoulders. “ _Very_ tempting, in fact...but we would most likely get completely distracted with each other and completely forget to attend poor Maglor’s performance.”

“And what a tragedy that would be,” Nerdanel replied with a smirk, kissing me on the lips. “You’re right, we must bring the children, if only for the sake of propriety.”

Amrod and Amras wrinkled their noses in unison. “ _Disgusting_.”

I am proud of all my sons, though occasionally I do wish some of them could be more mature.


	2. Exploration (Amrod)

We  _ were  _ good, you know, at least for the first part of the trip. Amras and I are only naughty when life gets horribly dull and we need to liven things up, and traveling to Vienna was interesting enough to keep us occupied. The boat ride across the Channel was jolly fun, especially when a storm started halfway through and Curufin got so seasick he nearly fainted. Riding on the train from France to Austria was a bit more boring, but luckily we had Maedhros to teach us complicated card games that he said we’d need to know when we went to Oxford, and to tell us stories about all the most interesting things in Vienna. Maedhros was the only one of us children who had been there before, since he’d gone to visit Maglor two years before, and he’d had a brilliant time.

“You boys are going to love the Spanish Riding School,” he told us eagerly. “The Lipizzaners are the most beautiful horses in the world, brought all the way from Spain, and their riders live in the school for years learning how to train them. The horses can run so fast it looks as though they’re flying in circles. And the last time we went I swear I saw the Emperor himself in the audience.”

“Why does Austria have an Emperor when all we get in England is a Queen?” I asked. “Seems a bit unfair.”

“Ah, but Queen Victoria rules a lot more places than Austria does, and it’s rude to show off, you know.”

That was the good thing about Maedhros: he always answered our questions very sensibly. He wasn’t one of those grownups who was always saying “you’re too young to understand,” like Granddad did.

“And then there’s the food, of course,” Maedhros went on. “Do you remember all the sweets Maglor brings back for you every Christmas? That’s not even the half of it. They’ve got apple strudel, schnitzel, apricot cake, marzipan  _ everything... _ ”

“ _ Please  _ stop talking about food,” Curufin groaned. “I’m still sick from that damned boat ride, and this train jolting about is not making it any better.”

“Language,” Maedhros told him firmly, before turning back to us with a wink. “Trust me, we are going to have a wonderful time.”

He was mostly right—on our first day in the city, we  _ did  _ have a wonderful time. We were staying at a place called Hotel Sacher, which was enormous and full of interesting corridors to wander about in, and Curufin insisted on staying with Mum and Dad so we got to share our room with Maedhros instead. And since our parents were too tired after the trip to drag us to things they called “cultural,” Maedhros bought us two huge slices of chocolate cake with apricot jam at the hotel restaurant and then took us to St. Stephen’s Cathedral to see the bones in the underground crypt. Amras was scared, but  _ I  _ wasn’t at all. 

In the evening, after Mum and Dad and Curufin were done resting, we went to a restaurant that had a waiter who had a huge mustache and kept calling us “liebchen,” and ate something delicious called wiener schnitzel with enormous piles of noodles. There was a funny man in a bright yellow waistcoat in the restaurant who played some jolly tunes on the violin, which I liked, but Dad didn’t seem to.

“I don’t see why everyone insists the Viennese are universally musical,” he said, shaking his head. “Not a single musician I’ve overheard in this city can hold a candle to Maglor.”

“To be fair, love, if Beethoven came back from the grave and performed a concerto in this very restaurant, you would still say  _ he  _ couldn’t hold a candle to Maglor,” said Mum. “I’m afraid you may be a bit biased.”

“Nonsense, it’s not bias to say our children are the best at what they do, it’s simple scientific fact. It’s hardly my fault that we managed to produce a collection of geniuses. Or rather, I suppose it’s  _ half  _ my fault…”

They probably kept talking, but at that point I was so tired and full of food that I had fallen asleep at the table.

 

We couldn’t avoid being cultured the next day, sadly. Mum and Dad woke us up very early, forced us into nasty itchy suits, and dragged us to some horrid sort of Art Museum. I tried to explain to them that since Maglor’s show was that night we were already going to be cultured enough, but of course they didn’t listen.

I suppose the museum was fairly interesting at first—there were plenty of paintings of swordfights and animals and things—but it was mainly the kind of pictures one sees in church, with sad-looking saints and all that, and they all started to look alike after a while. Curufin, of course, was acting like the perfect little scholar and kept asking Dad all sorts of questions about things like “mythology” and “technique” until Amras and I were bored to tears. And we didn’t even have Maedhros along to make things interesting, since he was off visiting some friend of his from university.

We must have been in there for about four hours before I finally saw an opportunity to escape. Mum and Dad and Curufin had disappeared into some little side room labeled Japanese Pottery, and I pulled Amras aside before he followed them.

“Listen,” I said. “I can’t take one more minute of Art, and it’s much too nice outside to be tramping around museums all day. I say we make a run for it.”

Amras looked around nervously. “Won’t Mum and Dad be cross?”

“Not at all, they won’t even know we’ve gone. We’ll go outside and get some fresh air and be back in a flash. I think Mum will be pleased really, she always says how important fresh air is for growing boys.” 

“If you’re sure,” said Amras. He still looked a bit nervous, but followed me as I led him down the stairs and out of the museum exit.

Outside, it was a bright and sunny day, and we found no shortage of interesting things to do. There was a park with a lot of ducks to feed (with a biscuit Amras found in his pocket) and a bandstand with some men playing tubas, and a statue of the Emperor on horseback that we climbed on until a policeman shouted at us in German. After he chased us out of the park we wandered about the streets, trying to understand what everyone was saying and petting every dog we came across. It must have been nearly time for lunch, though, since I was getting terribly hungry and I could tell Amras was too.

“Look, those people are eating ice cream!” said Amras suddenly, staring in the window of a cafe as we passed. “Can’t we go have some? I’m starving.”

My stomach growled loudly in reply. “Yes, I really think we should. Ice cream is good for growing boys, you know.”

Neither of us had ever been in a restaurant without our parents before, but it really wasn’t so hard to figure out. A friendly lady in an apron sat us down at a small table, and she must have understood a bit of English, as she wrote down something on her notepad when we ordered and returned a few minutes later with two glasses of the most delicious-looking ice cream I had ever seen. Amras and I polished it off in five minutes flat, feeling very proud that we hadn’t spilled any on our shirts. The waitress smiled at us as she moved aside our dishes and set down a piece of paper with some numbers scribbled on it, and I proudly handed her the shilling I’d found in my pocket, feeling very mature.

The lady frowned as she inspected the coin. “ _ Englisches Geld? Nein. _ ”

“We don’t have any Austrian money,” Amras whispered to me urgently. “We can’t pay! Is she going to call the police?”

Truly, the waitress did look like she was thinking about calling the police—her forehead wrinkled as she looked at our empty ice cream glasses and then at us. Before she could do anything, though, we heard a loud laugh, and a big man in a bowler hat and bright green gloves swept up behind the waitress and tapped her on the shoulder.

“ _ Entschuldigung, Fräulein,”  _ he said, handing her a shiny gold coin. “For the young gentlemen.”

The waitress looked closely at the money and nodded curtly, giving us a hard look as she walked away. Our new friend, the man in the green gloves, winked at us and said in English, “Forgot to go to the  _ bureau de change,  _ did you, lads? Never you mind, it happens to the best of us.”

“Thanks awfully, sir,” I said. “Would you like to keep our shilling in exchange? You can use it when you go back to London.”

“Not a bit of it, not a bit.” He handed the shilling back to me, patting me on the shoulder. “I consider it my Christian duty to help out a pair of lost boys.”

“We’re not lost,” Amras said quickly. “We’re just having an adventure. We know exactly what we’re doing.”

The man looked at us with narrowed eyes, before smiling again and nodding. “Of course you do, a pair of brave young Englishmen like yourselves. Best of luck to you.” 

“What a funny man,” Amras said, wiping some remnants of chocolate off his face. “But nice.”

“Very nice. Let’s get out of here before anyone else starts thinking we are lost.”

 

It had been, we agreed, an excellent adventure. But we hadn’t had any proper lunch yet, and Mum and Dad were most likely beginning to worry, so there really wasn’t any point in keeping them waiting any longer. The walk  _ to  _ the museum, though, seemed to be taking quite a lot longer than the walk  _ from  _ it had been.

“Amrod, I’m tired,” whined Amras after a few minutes, walking annoyingly slowly. “Aren’t we almost back?”

“Stop being a baby, Amras. We’re having an adventure. Do you think Lewis and Clark complained about being tired when they were exploring America?”

“But they had that lady to show them where to go. Sacagawea. And we don’t even have a map. Do you remember how to get back to the museum? I don’t.”

“Of course I do. We just have to go back down the street and go through the park like we did before.”

“But which street? I wasn’t looking at any of the signs and there are loads of them around here.”

“Easy. It’s…” I looked around. “That one. The one that starts with a K. Let’s go.”

We headed confidently down the street that started with a K, barely looking at the buildings as we passed by them. It wasn’t until we’d been walking for what must have been about twenty minutes that I realized the park was nowhere in sight, and nothing around us looked familiar at all.

“Amrod,” said Amras, like he knew exactly what I was thinking. “Are we lost?”

“Er,” I replied. “We might be.”

 


	3. Navigation (Amras)

Amrod thinks that just because he is the older twin he can come up with stupid plans all the time and boss everyone. He’s only older by  _ ten minutes,  _ but he acts like he’s grown up. And it was entirely his fault that we were completely lost somewhere in Vienna without anyone who could help us. Some people might have  _ tried  _ to help us, but we couldn’t understand them as they couldn’t speak properly, only in German.

It had been fun, the day before, wandering around the city with Maedhros; he always seemed to know where he was going, and everyone smiled at him and asked if he was our father because we all looked so much alike, and he always kept old ladies from pinching our cheeks. But on our own, it wasn’t half as fun. I  _ wasn’t  _ frightened, not a bit, but it was awfully inconvenient, being lost. Especially since even if we found Mum and Dad, they would be very angry with us for wandering off and we’d never be allowed to go abroad again. And we would miss Maglor’s show and then  _ he  _ would be cross with us...

And that was when I had an absolutely brilliant idea.

“Wait!” I said. “Amrod, I know what to do!”

“Do you remember the way back to the museum?” he said hopefully.

“No, but I think I have a better idea. I’ll bet we can find our way to the music school from here somehow. Maglor will be there, and he’ll know what to do.”

“He might, but how do we find the school? We don’t even know where we are.”

“We just have to think like detectives. Every time Maglor comes home for holidays he goes on and on about the Academy, doesn’t he? He must have said something that will tell us where it is, we just have to remember.”

“That’s going to be difficult,” said Amrod, wrinkling his nose. “I always stop listening when he’s talking about music school.”

“I usually do too, but we must have absorbed something. After all, Dad says children’s minds are like sponges.” I closed my eyes tightly, trying to remember any details from when Maglor had been blathering on about his school.  _ Everyone there is a genius, I’ve made the most brilliant group of friends...my piano teacher says I’m a young Franz Liszt...I always take a walk by the river in the morning and watch the sun rise, it’s incredibly inspiring… _ “Amrod, that’s it! The river, the school is next to the river!”

“Well, that’s something,” said Amrod. “But how do we find out where the river is?”

“Well, Maglor says he always goes there to watch the sun rise, and the sun rises in the east, doesn’t it?” I squinted up at the sky. “And it must be afternoon now because we haven’t had lunch and I’m  _ starving,  _ and the sun is over there now...so all we need to do is walk in the opposite direction of the sun!”

I knew Amrod was impressed, even though he didn’t say so, just nodded. “I expect we can try that, anyway. But if you get us even more lost I’m going to make you learn German and then  _ you  _ can ask a policeman to find Mum and Dad.”

 

We were both hot and sticky with blister-covered feet by the time we finally caught sight of the river. I wasn’t sure how long we had been walking, but it had to have been most of the afternoon as it was getting darker and the sky had turned a bit pink. 

“We have to be almost there, don’t we?” Amrod wheezed. “That’s the river, so it must be one of these buildings.”

“Yes, but I’m not sure which one. We could look for a sign, but I don’t know what ‘music school’ is in German. I suppose we’ll just have to listen for the loudest one. Let’s go left first. Listen  _ very carefully _ for singing.”

We didn’t have much luck for the first few blocks—most of the buildings seemed to be offices, and I was beginning to worry that I’d gotten us completely lost again. Before long, though, I overheard the very faint sound of music from somewhere down the street.

“That sounds like a violin,” Amrod said. “Where is it coming from?”

“I think that big building with the green roof. You see, it’s right behind that one that looks like a bank. Let’s go see if we can get in that door in the back.”

Luckily, the back door of the green-roofed building was unlocked, and we very quietly made our way inside, following the sound down a long, dark hallway that stopped at a door with something written on it in German. Pressing my ear against it, I could hear the violin getting louder, before it stopped abruptly and I heard a very distinct voice say in English, “Saints above, Giovanna, I think I’ve suddenly caught consumption from pure nerves. We may have to cancel the entire performance.”

“You have nerves?  _ You? _ ” a girl’s voice with a funny accent replied. “I am the lead soprano in this performance, it is  _ I  _ who is entitled to nerves. You are the writer, all you are being graded on is…”

But we never found out what anyone was being graded on, as Amrod and I both shouted “ _ Maglor! _ ” at the exact same moment, racing into the room and throwing our arms around our brother’s middle. He stumbled backwards slightly, but managed to pull himself upright and  looked down at us in shock.

“Amrod! Amras! What on earth are you doing here? And how did you get so sunburned?”

I’m ashamed to say that we both started crying then, but it was  _ only  _ because we were very tired and hungry.

“Mum and Dad made us go to the museum but we didn’t  _ want  _ to look at Japanese Pottery…”

“...and the policeman shouted at us in the park so we had to escape…”

“...we didn’t have any Austrian money but we still got ice cream…”

“...and we got lost but it  _ wasn’t  _ my fault, the street names are too confusing…”

“...but then we remembered the Academy was by the river because you always talk about it even though we don’t usually listen…”

“...and look, we found you, and please don’t be cross!”

Maglor sighed and patted us both on the head before pulling away. “I’m not cross, I’m very glad you found me, but are you telling me that our parents have no idea where you are? They must be out of their minds with worry!”

“I know,” I said, wiping my eyes. “And we’re awfully sorry, aren’t we, Amrod? But please don’t make us walk all the way back to the museum, we are very tired.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, I wouldn’t make you do that, you’ll be lost again in five minutes. I’ll have someone send a message to Mum and Dad, and you can stay here with us until they come to fetch you. Giovanna, you don’t mind, do you? They won’t be a distraction.” Maglor gave us a Look. “They will  _ not.” _

Giovanna, a large and nice-looking girl wearing what looked like one of Mum’s dressing gowns, shrugged. “It is no trouble to me, if they can be quiet. I have three small sisters myself back in Naples, I am quite used to children.”

“Brilliant. Excuse me a moment.” Maglor walked out of the room, and we could hear him calling something in German down the hallway before he came back in. “Now, who wants to go out to the stage with me and test the acoustics?”

It was quite good fun, spending time backstage with Maglor and Giovanna, but eventually the rest of the students in the show showed up and they were all too busy getting ready for Maglor to play with us. Finally, a few minutes before the show was about to start, Amrod and I were told that our family had arrived, and we were escorted out to the lobby.

When we saw Mum and Dad and Maedhros and Curufin waiting for us, I felt like I was about to cry again, this time from relief. Mum pulled us into a tight hug and kissed our cheeks and told us how worried she’d been and to  _ never  _ do this again, and even Curufin allowed that he’d been a bit concerned. Dad, meanwhile, asked us loads of questions about how we had managed to get to the music school, and raised his eyebrows at our answers

“You found your way here without any assistance at all?” Dad said, looking surprised. “I must say, I’m quite impressed.”

Mum smacked him on the shoulder. “Fëanor! Don’t encourage this sort of behavior!”

“I am not encouraging anything, but you must admit, Nell, for a pair of eight-year-old boys to navigate a foreign city alone takes some skill! We’ve got a pair of proper explorers on our hands, I’d say.”

“So we’re not in trouble?” Amrod asked.

“In trouble? I’ll say you’re in trouble. You gave your mother and I the fright of our lives. But as you’re here and in one piece we’ll say no more about it for now.” Dad patted us both on the head and winked. “Now let’s go in and find our seats. I think you boys are in need of a bit of culture.”

 

Personally, I quite liked Maglor’s show, even if there was a bit too much singing in it. It was one of those King Arthur sorts of things, about a prince in disguise as a poor knight (played by Maglor) and a very rude princess (played by his friend Giovanna) and there were lots of jokes and some nice tunes. It ended with a wedding and Maglor and Giovanna had to pretend to kiss, which was horrid, but overall it was good fun and I could understand why everyone stood up and clapped and cheered at the end.

There was one of those dull grown-up parties called a “reception” afterward, where everyone drank wine and chatted with each other about the weather and the government. It would have been nice to talk to Maedhros and Maglor, but they were surrounded by a whole crowd of people, and our parents and Curufin were busy talking to the Academy’s headmaster. I was feeling a bit bored, and a bit worried that Amrod would try to get me to do something silly again, when I saw a familiar person in a bowler hat and green gloves waving in our direction.

“It’s you!” I exclaimed, pulling Amrod over to where the man stood. “From the ice cream shop!”

He grinned and tipped his hat. “Indeed it is, little masters. I must say, I’m surprised to see you here. What brings you to the theatre this evening?”

“Our big brother wrote this show,” Amrod explained. “And he was in it. He was the loudest one.”

“Is that so?” The man looked over to where Maglor was busy being patted on the back and congratulated by Mum and Dad and Maedhros. “Interesting. What are your names, my lads?”

“Amrod and Amras Gates. Who are you?”

“My name is Mr. Louis Fairbanks, proprietor of the Legrand Theatre in London,” he said. “I say, would you and your parents mind terribly if I had a chat with your big brother about business? His charming show might be exactly the sort of thing our theatre is looking to put on.”

“You mean it would be in a proper theatre in London?” I asked. “And people could pay for their tickets in pounds and wouldn’t have to cross the Channel to see it?”

“That’s the general idea, yes. You approve?”

“I  _ think  _ so,” said Amrod. “But can we come and see the show for free?”

“I would imagine that could be arranged.”

Amrod and I looked at each other and nodded. “We’ll go introduce you then,” I said. “But you need to make sure you pay Maglor very well, he won’t take any money from Dad because he doesn’t want to compromise his principles.”

“A boy after my own heart,” Mr. Fairbanks chuckled. “Lead on, my lads!”

People seemed to know who Mr. Fairbanks was, because they moved aside quickly to let us pass through the crowd. Maglor, who had been talking very loudly with Maedhros, went completely silent and very pale when he saw us.

“Mr. Fairbanks, this is our brother Maglor,” I said proudly. “Maglor, this is Mr. Fairbanks. He’s the boss of…”

“The Legrand Theatre,” Maglor said, eyes widening. “Goodness, Mr. Fairbanks, it’s...it’s an honor.”

“The honor is all mine, my boy. May I steal you away from your loving family for just a moment? I believe audiences in London would be very interested in  _ The Trials of Sir Stultus _ , and your brothers have been quite aggressively negotiating on your behalf.”

Maglor glanced nervously over at Dad, who nodded. “I’d be delighted to, Mr. Fairbanks. Shall we go find somewhere a bit more...private?”

“Naturally, naturally.” Mr. Fairbanks put an arm around Maglor’s shoulder and began leading him away, turning back to wink at us briefly before they disappeared into the crowd.

“My heavens, not only are you boys explorers but you’ve become theatrical agents,” Dad said, shaking his head. “You never fail to surprise me.”

“Are you proud of us, Dad?” Amrod asked. “Will you take us to see the Lipizzaner horses tomorrow, since we did something good?”

Dad laughed and ruffled our hair. “My dear boys, if it’ll keep you out of trouble I’m inclined to buy you the entire Spanish Riding School.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I won't lie to you, friends: I could probably write an entire novel about Maglor's music school. But I will spare you, I know that's not what we're here for.


End file.
